


Eryth_Sea's NaNoWriMo Drabbles

by eryth_sea



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, NaNoWriMo 2020, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eryth_sea/pseuds/eryth_sea
Summary: 50k words of Drabbles
Kudos: 3





	Eryth_Sea's NaNoWriMo Drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How else am I going to find out anything about you - me - when you won’t even say ‘hello’?,” the younger Claude asked.
> 
> “The point is that you don’t know,” he responded. “One wrong word and I might change the course of history.”
> 
> “You could change it for the better.”

The most recent battle was one of the most challenging Claude had faced. Between himself, Edelgard, Dimitri and Sothis - it still felt surreal to know that she did exist - they could defeat anything the gods of this world could throw at them. However, even they could not defeat the weather. To the archer it felt like the sky waited for them to charge into battle before unleashing a storm of its own. At the time he was on top of his wyvern, where he was unable to stop the onslaught of rain from soaking his clothes and obscuring his vision. As he trudged back to his room, he was still amazed he was able to shoot down a fáfnir that had been a _little_ too close to Sothis.

The rain hadn’t let up after the battle, either. The summoner had offered Claude their coat as they hitched a ride on his wyvern, but the king had refused on account of the summoner wearing a thin top underneath. Even now, he could _still_ hear the steady downpour assaulting the roof of the wing of the castle he called home. Before they parted, Dimitri complained that a storm this heavy should have stopped hours ago. Claude couldn't help but agree.

He dug into his pocket, mildly annoyed that it was as soaked as the rest of him, and pulled out the key to his quarters. The arrangement reminded him of his days in Garreg Mach: he was designated a room with plain furnishings, which he was allowed to customise but not decorate. Which he had. With half the library. He considered himself lucky he didn’t have to share his little piece of nostalgia with anyone.

He opened the door to his room, and immediately took his cape off and hung it on a nearby coat stand. Next, he set to unlacing his water-logged boots. He reached down to pull the first one off when he felt another presence in his room. He straightened up, turning towards the open window. If he were anyone else, he would have dismissed his suspicions. Claude wasn't 'anyone else'. He saw the window as the only possible entrance for an intruder. There were plenty of spies in the order of heroes, and he and the summoner made sure that none of them wanted to hurt any other hero for as long as they were in Askr. With this in mind, there was only one person who could enter his room so effortlessly, yet be so bold to not cover his tracks.

“I know you’re here, me,” he announced. He heard a sigh of defeat from the intruder, which was a relief to the king. The younger Claude jumped down from the top of his wardrobe - how did he miss that? - to face him at eye level. As always, his younger self wore his Garreg Mach uniform and the yellow cape that signified his leadership of the Golden Deer house. The student was also soaking wet, confirming the king's suspicions about the window.

“How else am I going to find out anything about you - me - when you won’t even say ‘hello’?,” the younger Claude asked.

“The point is that you don’t know,” he responded. “One wrong word and I might change the course of history.”

“You could change it for the better.”

“It’s not worth the risk,” he replied. When he first found himself in Askr, the summoner warned the rulers of Fódlan to not contact their past selves. When Dimitri asked why, the summoner said that they might wipe themselves from existence and their enemies would win. Claude found their answer dubious, but he had decided not to press the summoner further. It was not worth arguing with someone who had the power to send him back to where he came from.

The younger Claude folded his arms, both in stubbornness and to stave off the chill he must be feeling. “I’m not leaving until you tell me something.”

“Well,” said the older Claude. “I am 24 years old and I turn 25 on the 24th day of the Blue Sea Moon -”

“I know when my birthday is,” the youth interrupted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“No,” he said. He wanted to change out of his clothes _without_ causing a temporal paradox.

“I won’t leave you alone until you do.”

So he was serious about wanting information, he realised. The older Claude wracked his brains for something he could tell, internally cursing his own curiosity. Anything regarding the fates of both his homelands was out of the question; so was anything that involved Those Who Slither in the Dark. While it was tempting to reveal the truth about the Church, it would have serious ramifications if his younger self knew. It was risky enough that he was wearing Almyran armor, he was sure that his younger self had managed to figure _that_ out. He didn’t even know if it was safe to mention that he got married. 

The silence that filled the room as he thought served to emphasise the water dripping off their clothes. Claude could see his younger self shivering where he stood, and moved to close the window. He was treated to a view of the rain lashing the paved courtyard and soaking any unfortunate Hero who dared venture outdoors. Claude found that one thing Askr and Fódlan had in common was the variable weather, which he remembered having some trouble adjusting to when he first moved to the region. It was also one of the biggest pains when it came to strategising, and was something that stopped him from getting perfect marks in his Lord exam.

Speaking of exams… 

“What’s your next exam on?” he asked, hoping to stall for time. In the grand scheme of things, his academic achievements weren’t that big of a deal. Historians wouldn’t be concerned that he wasn’t good at faith-based magic when he had defeated the Emperor and united the continent.

“Axe.” he replied. “Why?”

“You pass.”

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?” his younger self asked, incredulous at the insignificance of this information.

“There’s more,” the older Claude explained, turning away from the window so he can face his younger self. “If you keep practicing, you’ll get really good at it. So good it will feel as natural as holding a bow and riding a wyvern.”

The older Claude didn’t like the way his younger self’s eyes lit up. The student’s eyes were indistinguishable from emeralds; there was no doubt that ideas were forming of how he would be able to combine Leicesterian and Almyran fighting techniques in order to gain an edge on his opponents.

“I knew asking you would get me something useful. _Really_ useful,” the younger Claude teased, barely hiding his grin. “I now know for sure that Teach’s intuition is on the mark.”

The older Claude couldn’t help but nod. “She was a good teacher.”

“Wait, did you say ‘she’?”, the younger Claude exclaimed. His older counterpart was also surprised that the two of them came from different worlds, but was not as shocked at the revelation as the student. Even though he had seen many different versions of Teach wandering the castle grounds, none of them were _his_ Teach. It was like biting into an orange and tasting mango: similar in flavour, but not quite the same.

“I guess we also hail from different timelines, so I don’t know if I’ll actually be that useful to you.”

The younger Claude’s shoulders dropped in disappointment, but he quickly straightened his posture as he navigated through the maze of scattered books to reach the still-open door. “If that is the case, I’m sorry for bothering you. I was hoping to find out whether the choices I make will be the right ones.”

The older Claude turned to gaze out the window again, afraid that the deep frown he felt on his face would betray his regrets if he didn’t. During the war he had spent countless nights trying to find ways to keep casualties to a minimum, but his best was not good enough. Every battle he fought alongside Dimitri and Edelgard was a reminder of his failure to do so. He didn’t have the heart to tell them their fates in his world.

‘ _So do I_ ,’ Claude thought as he heard the door click shut. He admired the view of the grounds, glad that the rain had stopped. Eventually he saw a familiar black-and-yellow figure making his way across the courtyard. His younger self stopped to wave at him. He waved back. Satisfied that his counterpart had entered his wing safely, Claude backed away from the window, immediately regretting it when he was met with a wet _squelch_ from his sodden boots. 

‘ _So do I_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "An intruder! How did you enter?"  
> "Intruder window."
> 
> With the forging bonds conversation in Heroes, I knew that B!Claude's biggest obstacle would be his younger self.


End file.
